


Cooking lessons Part One: Knife lessons

by Oh_the_thinks_I_can_think



Series: Cooking lessons [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Knife Play, Mild Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_the_thinks_I_can_think/pseuds/Oh_the_thinks_I_can_think
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot is an amazing cook. Parker and Hardison want to learn. He loves them, so he teaches them, in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking lessons Part One: Knife lessons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [And_13_Orders_Of_Fries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/And_13_Orders_Of_Fries/gifts).



> So, this is my first post here. Comment as you wish, pointers and constructive criticism are welcome. Please be gentle.

Cooking Lessons  
Leverage Fic Series  
Parker/Eliot; Eliot/Hardison; Eliot/Parker/Hardison

Part One: Knife Lessons

Parker loved to watch him cook. More accurately, she loved to watch him chop. Eliot had a way with his knife, like it was an extension of him. The thought made her grin, that small curving of her lips that Parker did when she thought of something devious. In this case, it was Eliot’s “extension”. That made her giggle, which caught Eliot’s attention. He stopped chopping the celery and met her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” He looked at her through thick strands of hair that hadn't been held back by his bandanna. Parker shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. She knew he was already slightly on edge from her watching him, but he’d mostly gotten over it. To know that she was thinking of sex while he was cooking was sure to cause a “there’s something wrong with you” look, and that would kill her mood. 

Eliot didn't believe her for a minute. He wasn’t as good as Sophie at reading people’s expressions, but he knew Parker wasn’t very good at hiding how she felt or what she was thinking. He knew she only giggled when she thought of something naughty; he learned that much from her foreplay. Hardison was the same; except he would make his voice deeper, and stutter less. It seemed to be the one time he could control his words. And he was pretty good with them when he wanted to be. 

Eliot went back to chopping, after shooting Parker a look. He slid the blade across the cutting board, sending the celery into his pot of chicken stock, then twirled the knife in one hand while grabbing the carrots with the other. He came down on the carrots with sharp precision, chopping fast and exact. Parker’s breath hitched in her throat at the cracking sound of the blade across the board, and Eliot grinned. 

“Parker?” He called to her as he continued to chop, splitting her attention between his voice and his knife. 

“Hmm?” 

“Come ‘ere.” Parker’s head snapped up and her eyes slightly widened before she regained herself. She climbed down from the stool and walked around the island to stand next to Eliot. He chopped the last of the carrots and slid them into the pot, then turned to face her. 

“Do you know how to use one of these?” He held the knife in front of her, his hand gripping the blade and handle. The way he held it made the muscles in his arm tight, and defined, and the short sleeved grey t-shirt he wore was already working overtime, Parker noticed with appreciation. She shook her head.

“Not the way you do.”   
Eliot nodded once, and then turned the handle toward her, silently offering the knife. She took it, examined it then attempted to twirl the knife as Eliot had. She failed. Eliot chuckled then pulled her in front of him, between him and the island. He brought over a tomato, then motioned for her to cut it. 

Parker brought the knife down onto the fruit, but instead of cutting it, she broke the skin and squished the tomato. She sighed.

“What did I do wrong? I did it like you did with the carrots.” Parker didn't like failing at things, especially with Eliot. He was impatient, and rarely gentle, and when he was, it seemed so uncomfortable for him that he fidgeted a lot, like he was in pain. But he was with Parker, so he tried, and because of that she tried hard not to disappoint. 

“Tomatoes aren't carrots.” 

Eliot watched Parker for a moment. He knew she wasn’t one for cooking; she’d much rather watch him. She was also very open about what she wanted, especially sex. This was the girl who would swing down for the rafters of the apartment naked, and no matter what he and Hardison were doing, expected them to drop everything and satisfy her. And they did. But this was different. 

Parker was still holding the knife, but now she was examining it again, her cheeks slightly flushed and that grin was back. He knew that stare. It was the same hungry stare she always had before she slid his cock into her mouth. The thought of Parker sucking him made his dick twitch with excitement. He knew what she needed. 

Eliot moved closer, his lips next to her ear. “Carrots are hard, thick and rigid.” He wrapped his arm around her tiny waist and pulled her body back into his. She gasped, shocked. 

“Tomatoes require a gentler touch than a carrot.” He lifted the hem of her shirt and stroked the skin there. His callused thumb was rough on her, but she liked it, and he knew it. 

The key,” Eliot said as he placed his other hand over the one Parker gripped the knife with, “Is to think of the knife as a part of you. Like the tip of your finger.” Eliot moved his hand from her side and brought his fingertips down her neck, starting at her ear then gently making his way to her collarbone. Parker tensed, arching into his touch. 

“Tell me what you want Parker.”

“I wanna be the tomato.” She turned to face him. “Use the knife on me.”

Twenty pounds of crazy indeed. Eliot wasn’t really shocked by her request, he knew she was kinky. He just didn't have much experience, believe it or not, with BDSM. It wasn’t his style; he caused people pain for a living, he didn’t like to hurt the ones he loved. 

“Parker, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  
Parker’s nose scrunched up. “Why not?” 

Eliot smiled and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Because I don’t wanna hear Alec’s mouth when he sees that I've marked up all that beautiful porcelain skin of yours.” 

Parker sighed. This was gonna take some finesse. She moved her hands under his shirt, running them over his taut stomach, feeling the muscles there tense. “But you’re all marked up.” She covered his neck and clavicle with small, sweet kisses, while slowly coaxing his shirt higher. She paused to left it over his head. His bandanna went with it, starting a clothes pile on the kitchen floor. 

Parker wrapped her arms around his waist, closing the small space between them. Her hands continued to roam, starting at the deep crease in his back, and moving almost too slowly up and outward, over cut and scar. Her eyes were closed, her head nuzzled in the crook of his neck. “You’re so beautiful.” she moaned. It was like she was worshiping his battle wounds, blessing them with her body. 

Eliot’s breath was ragged. This woman was an evil mastermind. He was so sure he could say no to this request; he had so many times before. But she had a way of making him feel good, like all the bad things he’d done weren't so bad. He knew all too well that they were, but Parker didn’t see it that way; didn’t see him that way. He took a deep breath and met her eyes.

“Parker, what you’re asking, it’s not a game. There are rules, safe words, things that need to be discussed. This isn't just sex, this is - ” Parker cut him off.

“I trust you. Always have. You’re so good, so perfect with the knife. You make things beautiful.” Parker moved back, cleared the counter, bounced up onto it and removed her shirt. “Please. Make me beautiful too.”

Eliot was lost. He knew it, from the moment he allowed her under his skin. She burrowed deep, and it was too late to try and have her extracted. His eyes followed the lithe curves of her torso. She was so beautiful already.

He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and cupping her face in his hand. She leaned into his touch, trusting him before they even began. Eliot brought her chin close, pulling her in for a kiss. Parker practically melted, parting her lips and allowing his tongue access. Eliot moaned, she tasted like whiskey; his whiskey. Definitely an evil mastermind. 

Parker was on fire. She wasn’t one to ease into things, especially not sex. But she knew this was gonna be difficult for Eliot, and she didn’t want to push him too hard too fast. Whoa. The thought of Eliot pushing hard and fast made her shiver; she knew her panties were soaked by now. 

Eliot noticed the shiver; he noticed everything about Parker. She knew his buttons, but he knew hers too, and it was time he started pushing. He gripped her waist in both hands, wrenching her forward, effectively pulling her off the counter. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and gasped aloud when his cock pressed right up against the crease in her jeans.   
He smirked through their tangled mess of hair, before grinding slowly, twisting and pushing his hips, giving just enough friction to drive her wild. Parker threw her head back, exposing her perfect breasts. Eliot feasted on them, licking and sucking any flesh he could, biting her pink nipples, bringing them to full peaks. 

Parker pushed his shoulders. “Eliot, stop. Stop or I’m gonna come right here.” Eliot grinned. “Don’t worry. It won’t be the last time.” Parker nudged him again, unlocking her legs and motioning for him to put her down. He did, reluctantly, and watched as Parker unfastened her jeans, slid them down her legs and stepped out of them. Eliot attempted to adjust himself but Parker’s hand was on him first. His eyes met hers, she had that grin again.

“Choose your tool, and meet me in the bedroom.” Then she sauntered off, clad only in black boy shorts.

Eliot sighed, braced himself against the counter. He knew this was dangerous, not just the act itself, but what the act meant. He didn’t want to deny her; hell, he couldn’t at this point. But Parker was so brazen about things, so black and white. He knew she wasn’t dumb, but there were things that she just didn’t get, and he was sure this was one of them. 

He grabbed the knife again; it was a decent one. Thin blade, heavy handle, good balance, but it was a kitchen knife. Parker deserved something more personal. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his switchblade. Beautifully crafted, wood handle, sleek grip, he knew this blade like he knew himself. Parker trusted him and he trusted this knife. He cleaned it with a cloth, washing away the dirt and bad memories. It was time to make a pleasant one. 

Eliot made his way to the bedroom, stopping at the door. Parker was laying in the middle of their king sized bed, looking even smaller in the massive cushion. It was covered in pillows; she and Hardison weren't always the cuddling type, so they had pillows to divide the space. Parker was propped up on them, smiling up at him mischievously. She was breath-taking. He began to walk toward her, but Parker put up her hand. 

“Take off your clothes. I wanna see you.” 

Eliot chuckled, before complying. He placed the knife on the bedside table before sitting at the foot of the bed, and untying his boots. He slid his socks from his feet and stood, turning to face her. Eliot held her gaze as he unzipped his pants and pushed both pants and underwear to his ankles. Parker licked her lips as he stepped out of the clothing, the way the muscles in his thighs tightened with the motion. Eliot’s cock twitched at the sight. 

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say “Like what you see?” Parker rose up onto her hands and knees, keeping a hungry gaze on his cock as she crawled toward him. She reached out, hands on his thighs, feeling the strength of them. Running her hands around the back of his legs, she pulled him forward, until her mouth was a breath away from his dick.  
She kissed the head gently, and Eliot exhaled deeply. This girl was trying to kill him. Parker was a true goddess. But not tonight. Tonight she was his, to with what he pleased, and he pleased a whole hell of a lot.

Running his hand through her hair, he gripped it roughly and jerked her head back to look at him. He saw surprise in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced with arousal. He pulled her up to his mouth, and attacked her pink lips. She whimpered at the roughness, and Eliot took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Their tongues fought for dominance, spearing and jabbing each other. He gripped her hair tighter, holding her head in place, and she retreated, giving him full access. 

When he finally pulled away, her lips were swollen, bright red and puffy. Eliot hated to admit it, but he liked seeing her like this; she was his.

“Lay back on the bed.” His voice was raspy, like always, but there was a darkness to it Parker noticed immediately; it was hot. She did as she was told. Eliot joined her on the bed then, not touching her, but bringing his body close enough to hers to let her feel the heat. 

He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every sound, every taste. When he pulled away, he met her eyes. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“Safe word is Pretzels.” 

****  
Parker POV

My mind wanders a lot. I can’t help it; I've always been that way. The only time I’m able to focus is on a job, or during sex. Though I wouldn't really call that focusing, it’s more like not thinking at all. 

But with Eliot, this time is different. I can focus on every drag of the metal against my skin, every soft kiss afterward. My breathing is tied to the stinging of the blade, I exhale only when he does. I cling to every whispered word in my ear as his fingers trace the lines. When he shifts, I follow, instinctively, like I have no other choice. Eliot in charge is good.

He gives me orders, I follow them. My hands are above my head, gripping the metal bars of our headboard. He stops every so often to rub my wrists and arms, massaging out the knots and tension. 

“So good for me.”

I live for these praises, almost as much as his knife. He makes me feel so beautiful, so loved. Eliot kisses me gently, leaving a soft wet trail between my breasts. His callused thumb rubs against my tightened nipple, while his mouth hungrily attacks the other. Eliot tugs and bites just the way I need it, just the way I need him. I’m so close to cumming, and he hasn't even been inside me yet. 

“You alright Darlin’?” 

I’ve been “Darlin’” since we began. He has kept the endearment; I think to keep me tethered to him, to help me stay in the now. His voice is deep, thick; a stark contrast to the sharp bite of his blade. My eyes are closed, not for fear but for anticipation. I am the tomato.

Eliot moves up close to my ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

“You gotta stay with me Darlin’, let me know how you’re doin’.” I thought I had nodded, but I guess my mind didn’t tell my body to do that. He kisses down my neck then back up as he straddles me. I can feel his cock just above me, barely touching my stomach. I arch up to close the space, but he pulls back, grinning. 

“Not yet.” I want to grab his ass and force him into me, make him fuck me already, but that’s not the game. The game is to obey. Obedience is rewarded, or so I’m told.

Eliot moves down then, his hair sweeping across my abdomen. ‘just a little further,’ I’m holding my breath in expectation.

His lips meet my mound, and I jump. Eliot chuckles, bringing his arm around to rest on my stomach. “Be still darlin’, can’t have you falling off the edge.” I can feel the breath of his words against my clit; I can’t help the tingle that runs down my spine. He’s so close I can feel him smile, before giving me a long slow lick. I’m soaked, I know I’ve coated his tongue, and that just makes me wetter. 

“Mmm. Damn, darlin’. So wet for me already, so perfect.” He licks me again, faster this time, once, twice, then again.

“God, you taste so sweet. I love your taste in my mouth, your juices on my tongue.” I moan; I love it when he talks dirty. 

“You like that, huh? Like when I tell you all the dirty things I’m thinkin’?” His mouth is on me again, sucking my clit. I’m so close to cumming, but I can’t. I have to wait ‘til I’m told. 

“Tell me what you like Parker.” Eliot has me all tangled in knots, I can’t think straight, but then he’s kissing my lips, and I can taste myself on his tongue. “Talk to me Parker. Tell me what you need.” 

“I need you.” I’m surprised at my voice. Eliot glides his hand back down my body, igniting a fire in its wake.   
“You have me.” He bites my nipple. Tears spring to my eyes. I’m so close, my pussy is swollen, and he wants me to talk?! 

“Please..” is all I can manage. He growls in my ear then flips me over, yanks me up on my knees. 

“Parker, it’s a simple question.” He positions himself behind me, and starts rubbing his cock over my pussy. “What do you need?” 

I try to push myself back onto him, but he moves too quick. He slips a finger inside me. I gasp at the contact, almost come right there, but he pulls it out just as quickly as he slipped it in. I can hear him sucking me off of his finger; he’s torturing me. 

“Fuck me Eliot. Please fuck me.” I can see his smug grin in my head. 

“Now, was that so hard?”

Before I can furrow my eyebrows in frustration, he’s buried deep inside me; his balls nestled against my ass. He’s so big, fills me up completely. Eliot has stilled, he knows how close I am, knows I can come just like this, but he wants me to wait. 

“Please, Eliot, I need to come..” The tears are back, I’m beyond dignity, beyond sanity. I love this feeling.

“You’ll come when I say you can. Right now, I want you to move. Slowly now, don’t go trying to speed things along. Just...” his hands are on my hips, moving them forward, “a little bit.” 

I can feel every inch of him as he slides me down; every ridge, every pulse, all of it. And it’s all mine. My pussy tightens, closing around him like I know he likes. He hisses and stills. 

“Darlin, you are gonna be the death of me.” He nips my earlobe, but doesn’t spank me or chastise me. Now I know Eliot is close too. 

“Eliot,” I say in my sweetest, most lust-filled voice, “I need more. Pleeeease…” I say as I push back, sliding down his length. “Take me.” 

And that’s all she wrote. I can’t see his eyes, but I know him well enough to know they got wider and darker. The levee breaks and he’s off, pounding me into the mattress. 

Eliot pulls my arms behind me and holds them there with one hand while his other is fisted in my hair. I can hear him grunting, his ragged breath is on my back. The tears are streaming now, hitting the sheets like bullets. I’ve never felt so used; it’s perfect. 

His voice is filling my head again. “Parker. Come.” You don’t have to tell me twice. 

The last thing I remember before drifting off is his hips stuttering, his dick pulsing inside of me, his come filling me up. And a kiss on my lower back that sends shivers up my spine.   
“Good job Darlin’”


End file.
